


Slippery Business

by Laily



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Loki (Marvel), Established Relationship, Fluff, Headaches & Migraines, Humor, Hurt Stephen Strange, Hurt/Comfort, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), M/M, Protective Loki (Marvel), Romance, Sick Stephen Strange
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2020-09-02 00:28:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20267038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laily/pseuds/Laily
Summary: Loki is feeling frisky and Stephen is just...cold.AKA The Stephen Strange Whumpathon Extravaganza





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sherl8ckWat2on](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherl8ckWat2on/gifts).

“Loki, stop it.”

“Loki, please. I’m trying to read.”

“Loki, that –” he chuckled, “Hehe, he –” his giggles escalated, “Loki, stop! You know how ticklish I am!”

A flip of the page. The article was boring boring _boring_ but Christine had asked for his help appraising it for a presentation and –

“Hey, don’t!” he tried shaking Loki off, but to dislodge his slippery husband off his ascent into his crotch was more difficult than he imagined, “This is hardly the time or the place, Loki!”

Loki slid down and Stephen heaved a sigh of relief, but yelped when a sudden sharp pain pricked him in his ankle – “_Ow!!_ Loki!!!”

“What?” Loki stuck his head outside, a beret and painter’s brush in his hand. Here he was, getting painting lessons from the great Caravaggio himself (dead and in spirit form unfortunately, but no less talented) and his husband was making so much _noise_ for someone who was supposed to be reading.

Stephen’s heart leapt to his throat. The pain quickly blossomed into a burning, prickling fire and in a matter of heartbeats agony erupted up his leg into his pelvis, all the way up to his heart as the venom coursed through his veins – and suddenly the ground was up and the sky was down.

“Not again, Strange!” Loki yelled. All hell broke loose as everyone scrambled in all directions either trying to catch the snake or get away from it.

_“Urgh,_ green mamba venom is the worst! Tastes like putrified dog flesh fermented in fish guts!” Loki sucked and spat and sucked and spat some more – “I thought _you’re_ supposed to be the doctor around here!”

“Sorry, darling.”

The world was getting cold.

His teeth chattered.

“I think I’m dying.”

“Yeah. Hold that pose. I’ll paint you later and you can send it back in time and pass it off as Caravaggio’s. You look _so_ macabre.”

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m dying.”

“Uhuh. Your life insurance policy is in the second top dresser drawer, yes?”

“Loki…”

“Stephen. We’ve been married twenty years now. You still can’t tell me apart.”

“All snakes look the same…”

_“Thanks.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can do a lot of things in 10 minutes. Take a power nap. Eat 3 Snickers bars. Watch one-third of one episode of The Big Bang Theory. 
> 
> Or you can write pointless drabbles featuring your favourite MCU pairing.
> 
> Probability of this being multi-chaptered? 110%. There are 144 ten-minute blocks in a day.


	2. Nutty For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is a field surgeon in another life.

“But the play’s starting soon, Loki –” Stephen found himself smothered by a lapful of Loki as his vertically well-endowed husband climbed over him and a few disgruntled theatre-goers (and their respective not-all-that-displeased-looking female companions) to get to the center aisle; for someone who could easily teleport to the very edge of the world if he so wished, Loki was being rather…manual.

Or deliberately annoying.

Loki must be really pissed.

“I _abhor_ wasabi peanuts!” he thundered.

More heads turned. Stephen hung his head low.

Yeah. Loki was pissed.

“He’s a salted peanut person,” Stephen offered around weakly, and the collective aura of exasperation turned to sympathy.

The lights began to dim. Orchestral music began to play.

And Loki was nowhere in sight or sound.

Stephen sighed heavily. To think that this whole thing was Loki’s idea.

He glared at the bag of wasabi peanuts in his lap.

Loki’s going to divorce me and it’s all your fault! He raged inside.

He viciously ripped the packet open with his teeth -

The Phantom of the Opera. _Shesh_.

What a waste of good life.

Stephen tossed a handful of nuts into his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing.

Their biennial Midgardian date night. Ruined.

Stephen lobbed a sizable one into his mouth, the wasabi coating so thick it bulked the nut up to the size of a macadam-

He thumped his chest.

And tried to do the following, in no particular order.

Breathing.

Talking.

Coughing.

Maybe he should give breathing another try. While oxygen was still free and did not come sold in tanks, like in the many, many futures he had caught glimpses of –

Yeah. None of those futures was apparently going to apply to him anymore because

“He’s choking!!!” Someone thumped his back hard –

_No. You’ll make it worse_.

Heimlich.

Stephen rose drunkenly to his feet –

But the stall seats were too low for him to self-administer the life-saving manouevre himself.

He groped for someone, anyone – there must be somebody who knew how

Shadows jumped in and out of his dimming peripheral vision as faceless people crowded around him. Clumsy hands grabbed at him, strange arms circled at his waist –

Blood roared in his ears. His chest burned.

Must be the wasabi, he thought dimly.

This is it. The Sorcerer Supreme, the greatest one that ever lived, brought to his knees and his end of life by a peanut that he only bought by mistake and only ate out of spite.

“Somebody do something!” Someone screamed. Loudly too. Stephen wondered if it was one of the actors on the stage.

_Sorry, guys. Didn’t mean…to…ruin_...

Something slammed into his forehead and Stephen crashed onto the floor, sprawled on his back.

Somebody screamed. “What are you doing?”

A glint of silver. It swooped down like a scythe.

Nothing felt as blessed as the sudden rush of air that his tetanic diaphragm sucked into his screaming lungs in an earthshattering whoosh.

Strange how the wonderful, wonderful oxygen felt as if it was coming from his…neck?

His hand reached up –

“Leave it, Strange!” Loki snapped.

“I leave you for one minute._ One _minute!”

“Sorry, darling,” he tried to speak, but he couldn’t.

Why couldn’t he?

“I said, leave it!” Loki hissed, slapping Stephen’s hand away. “I’m not done yet!”

Someone moaned. “Oh man. Look at all the blood…”

_Blood? _

Loki reached inside Stephen’s windpipe and retrieved the deadly peanut, all green and innocent between his bloody fingers.

He flicked it away and someone squealed.

“Sorry,” he said coolly. 

Loki pressed a hand against Stephen’s lacerated trachea. A sadistic grin. “Wanna see some magic?”

A healing spell and a stolen kiss later, Stephen found himself the recipient of many, many hugs from many, many people he did not know.

“Holy _shit_, man!”

“How did you do that?”

“Who _are_ you?”

A 2.5-hour musical later, Loki still was not talking to him.

“Loki. Dearest heart. My moon and stars.”

Loki stalked down Broadway, all black coat and black mood.

“Loki, I’m sorry.”

Loki sniffed furiously. “After all that and you still didn’t get my peanuts.”

Stephen stood, stunned.

“It’s over!” Loki stomped away. “See you in two years.”


	3. Burn For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because Stephen likes to ask for things very indirectly and not necessarily painlessly.

“Why do you do this to yourself, Strange…”

“Christine says couples that do things together, stay together…” Stephen sounded mournful.

“And you think that applies to us how?” The frown on Loki’s forehead looked genuine enough. “We are already staying together last time I checked. _I_ was the one who authorised the Rent Waiver for our indefinite future, regardless of the number of children we end up having and the many times they may or may not accidentally blow up our house.”

“You were?”

“Thor was only happy to oblige. If he could have his way, he would have us stay with him in Asgard and never leave.”

Stephen shuddered. “Some days I feel like I am married to your Brother.”

“We come in a package.” Loki sounded too serious to be jesting and too amused for Stephen’s liking. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with him, Strange.”

“Yay me.” Stephen meant it to come across sarcastic but from the stricken look on Loki’s face, he probably sounded like a pitiful, dying duck more than anything.

“Does it hurt very much, Stephen?”

For someone who claimed to only love him on weekends and public holidays, Loki sounded close to tears.

“You’re not dying, are you?”

“I have updated my will accordingly, my darling, don’t you worry.”

“_How_ thoughtful.”

Well. Loki was never one to cower in the face of Death. “Aífe’s calling dibs on The Cloak.”

Stephen’s heart flipped.

“And you? What do you want?”

“I want you to cease all this tomfoolery and accept the fact that your constitution is _just_ a tad more delicate than mine.”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Yeah? Then you did not just consume a shitload, as how you like to put it, of ghost peppers just to prove a point?”

“That I love you and that developing common interests is not impossible even if you’re an alien and I’m just a delicate human, yes.”

Loki sighed. At long last, he relented and placed an icy hand on Stephen’s belly and started kneading in slow, soothing circles.

“You don’t need to be in real pain to get my attention, Strange…”

At Loki’s unusually gentle words, a rush of déjà vu coursed through Stephen’s body, and suddenly the burning in his stomach did not seem to burn quite so hot anymore.

“I wasn’t trying to. It just happened to be a welcome side effect,” Stephen said dreamily.

“Surely we can develop something that isn’t quite so detrimental to your health and so damaging to your looks.” Loki grimaced. “You’re so pasty and sweaty.”

“Khan from Star Trek is pasty and he’s your favourite.”

“Khan has no sweat glands...” Now it was _Loki_ who sounded dreamy, and Stephen's stomach hurt ten times worse.

“Loki.”

“Hmm?”

“…We can develop a baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Benedict looks so hot as Khan with the white face and the black hair _guh._ I need a Khan/Loki crossover fic. Now that's a couple made in alien heaven.
> 
> I take it back. Strange/Loki is the only pairing for me, and I cannot seem to go a day without doodling something StrangeFrost, FML.
> 
> Aífe is Stephen and Loki's daughter from my other fics in The Capsule Collection.


	4. Ride of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen and Loki visit the Happiest Place on Earth.

“I thought you said rollercoasters were your thing?” Loki demanded.

“They _are_.” Stephen insisted. “I love rollercoasters.”

And he proved his point by emptying the contents of his stomach onto the ground, missing the garbage can by a mile.

So his depth perception was damaged too. Okay. He hoped this wasn’t permanent.

The tip of Loki’s nose crinkled, either from the smell or the scoffing he was refraining from doing. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“Well not when you rigged Space Mountain to go ten times as fast and five times as long!” Stephen gritted his teeth, feeling cold sweat trickle down his back, sticking his T-shirt to the space in between his shoulder blades.

“God I feel _sick.”_

Loki crouched down next to his husband’s hunched form.

The Marriage Guide Books had been quite specific about how to manage this sort of situation – if Loki remembered correctly, he was supposed to be feeling something called sympathy and demonstrating something called empathy.

“Do you…need an ambulance?” He asked uncertainly.

Stephen barked a laughter. “I need a refund. That was the most expensive funnel cake I’ve ever uneaten.”

A loud gurgle that sounded like something that would come out of a cheap thermal drip coffee maker piqued Loki’s attention.

“I didn’t know Disneyland lets beasts run loose in their parks?”

“…no, that’s just my stomach.”

“Oh, _honey_…” Loki suffused as much sympathy as he could into his coo and into his fingers as he began to knead Stephen’s temples. “In through the nose, out the mouth. In through the nose, out the mouth. In through the nose –”

Stephen listened as Loki chanted his mantra with a soft, reminiscent smile. “You remembered.”

Soothing healing magic diffused through Loki’s fingers, loosening the tight muscles at his temples.

Stephen felt the press of Loki’s lips to the back of his head and the murmur against his hair. “Of course I remember. Your head massage was the only thing that helped the sickness.”

“And now our little almond is twelve years old.”

“And still a terror,” Loki sighed.

After ten minutes of the iciest head reflexology session Stephen had ever had the pleasure to enjoy,

“Do you still feel sick, Stephen?” Loki was beginning to sound impatient.

Stephen took in a few deep, measured breaths. His stomach had thankfully ceased its gravity-defying tumbles and stopped trying to turn itself inside out.

“So where to next, darling?”

Loki pointed excitedly at a towering structure looming into the distance. “Guardians of the Galaxy – Mission: BREAKOUT!”

“Please. Anything but that…” Stephen groaned. “We’ve gone on that one a dozen times!”

“You’re no fun,” Loki pouted.

“I’m sorry, Loki. I know how much you were looking forward to this trip.”

Loki studied his husband’s grey-tinged face and felt something give. “It’s okay, Stephen. We’ve tried most of the rides anyway.”

Loki gasped. “Oh wait! We haven’t gone on the Mad Tea Party! Oh let’s, Stephen!”

Stephen gave a resigned sigh. If anyone could get into trouble of the gastrointestinal variety from a spinning tea cup ride, it was him. And it had everything to do with his mischief-loving, thousand-something-year-old alien husband.

“You’re going to turn it into the fastest-spinning gyroscope in the world, aren’t you?”

Loki’s smile had never been sunnier. “The Grandmaster once let me spin his up to a blistering 600 million rotations per minute! Of course, it helped that I could cool it down to a minus 300 degrees Fahrenheit with my amazing Jotunn powers – ”

“The Grandmas –” Stephen’s eyes narrowed. “Spin his what? What did you spin, Loki?”

Loki was already skipping down the boulevard.

_“Loki!”_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki plays Florence Nightingale, Agatha Christie-style. Crossposted to my [Tumblr](https://finnlaily.tumblr.com/).

“So you really are ill.”

“Of course. Surely Wong told you?”

“I thought you just wanted attention.”

“That too.”

Loki followed Stephen with unreadable eyes as the sorcerer hobbled back to bed as The Cloak hovered nearby.

“Have you been to see a…what do you humans call it…medical practitioner?” Loki asked lightly.

“I _am_ a medical practitioner,” Stephen groaned as he clambered back into bed. His whole body ached. The short walk to the door drained him more than a day out on the field ever did.

“Uh-uh.” Loki scanned Stephen’s sparse bedside table. “So…where’s all your medicine then?”

“Don’t need it.”

Loki made a face.

“It’s just run-of-the-mill influenza, Loki. It’s self-limiting.”

“So you’re just going to feel like death until you’re done riding it out?”

“Something like that.”

Loki sighed heavily. “Should have known.”

“What.”

“That you’d be terrible at taking your own advice.”

“You know me so well,” Stephen croaked.

Loki felt something twist his heart into a knot. Never had Stephen looked so vulnerable, so…human.

Before he knew it, he was leaning down to kiss his human lover, but a sudden hand reached up to muzzle him in mid-air.

“No.” Stephen cracked open one bleary eye. “No transferring the sickness onto yourself.”

“I wasn’t gonna,” Loki whined.

“I know you, Loki.” Now both Stephen’s eyes were open. “You’ve got your game face on.”

“Okay, fine,” Loki sighed. “Can’t I just kiss you?”

“No can do. I don’t want to pass anything on to you.”

“I am hardly going to succumb to any of your measly Midgardian diseases.”

“That’s what you said about mono,” Stephen said dryly.

Loki did not answer.

“Why the long face, Loki?”

“Now who’s going to take me to the farmer’s market?”

“You never wanted to go even when I was _well_,” Stephen laughed. “Try again, Odinson.”

“I’ve never seen you this ill before,” Loki admitted. “It isn’t very pretty.”

“I’ll be fine.” Stephen took a chance and patted the back of Loki’s hand. “That’ll teach me never to skip a flu shot.”

Loki lifted the covers and was about to snuggle in when Stephen pulled the blanket out of Loki’s grasp.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re like a furnace, Strange. You’re the one who’s always calling me the walking popsicle.”

“Yes, and I need you to go home now,” Stephen growled. “What did I tell you about this being contagious?”

“So I can’t kiss you. I can’t hold you. What is the point of me?” Loki narrowed his eyes. “I’m not feeding you soup.”

“Don’t want any.” Stephen coughed theatrically. “I’ll be fine. Go home, Loki.”

“Uhuh.” Loki pulled an armchair noisily across the floorboard.

“What are you doing?”

“Someone has to make sure you don’t die.” A giant book as thick as a tree trunk appeared out of thin air and into Loki’s lap. “Might as well be me.”

Stephen groaned aloud.

“ ‘The Complete Miss Marple’,” Loki grinned. “You’re in for an adventure, Doctor Strange.”

“Woe is me.” But Stephen was smiling. “I love you.”

“That’s the fever talking,” Loki said gently, but his eyes were smiling too. “Try again when you’re sober.”


	6. Chapter 6

Stephen watched in stupefied silence, mesmerised not only by the impeccable precision with which Loki was working his magic thread through the gaping cut on the back of Stephen’s forearm, but by the lulling, soothing tune Loki was humming. 

The seidr-driven needle paused in mid-air when Loki stopped humming for a second to realign a particularly jagged area of the wound to make sure its edges met.

“Never seen such a technique before,” Stephen commented casually.

Loki murmured, “You haven’t seen nothing yet.”

To prove his point, Loki touched a spot that was still oozing with the tip of his finger that seemed to be emitting some kind of icy vapour. 

And now he’s using alien liquid nitrogen, Stephen thought wildly. On naked human skin!

But Loki’s unorthodox cauterising technique seemed to be efficacious for now the wound had stopped bleeding.

Loki began to hum again and this time Stephen could not contain his curiosity any longer.

“How are you doing that?” When Loki answered by humming even louder, driving the seemingly sentient needle to work its way through the torn tissues faster, Stephen amended the line of questioning. “Why are you doing that?”

“Ever heard of the Yaka Arrow, Stephen?” Loki looked up briefly from inspecting the rest of Stephen’s many wounds. “The technology used by the Centaurians on the planet Centauri-IV?”

“Can’t say I have,” Stephen said reluctantly. 

“Of course you haven’t.” Loki shrugged. “That’s what happens when you don’t travel much.”

“I do too! I took you people watching in Atlantic City just last weekend,” Stephen argued. 

Loki gave him a dead stare. “New Jersey doesn’t count.”

“You said you loved the Boardwalk,” Stephen muttered sullenly.

Loki felt something in him give, and he leaned forward to kiss Stephen soundly on the lips. “I did.” 

But when he pulled back, he was smirking. “Face it, Stephen. You’re a hermit.”

Stephen opened his mouth as if to speak, but Loki gave a sharp whistle and Stephen found his lips shut by an invisible force. “Now do shut up and let me finish tending to your wounds. You’re making me miss Tiger King.”

But it’s on Netflix! Stephen tried to say. And how could you watch that show when I nearly got killed by an actual tiger demon?

"It is not songs or even seidr that drives my needle, Stephen," Loki murmured gently. "It is my heart."

With an unnaturally low-pitched vibrato note no human vocal cords could possibly emulate, Loki ended the magic Yaka thread in a tidy little knot, and Stephen craned his neck forward to take a look. 

The jagged claw marks on his arm were now closed, sutured so neatly one could be fooled into thinking there had been no breach in the skin to begin with, except for the smarting that had begun to set in. 

Loki, ever the mysterious mind reader, blew softly on the throbbing wound and the pain miraculously disappeared. 

“Better?” he asked gently. 

“Better,” Stephen answered, his eyes shining. “Loki?”

“Yeah?”

“My lips are hurting too.”

Loki slowly broke into a sly grin as he leaned forward with a husky “I believe I can take care of that too,” and did just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was rewatching Guardians of the Galaxy over the weekend...and wished Yondu was Loki's dad instead of Odin. RIP Yondu. *chest thump x 2*
> 
> As for the humming? Well, I blame my partner for suggesting we watch Robert Redford and Barbra Streisand's The Way We Were...
> 
> [LINK](https://discord.gg/VRTCfCM) to join the Froststrange Sanctum discord server! Join us now!


	7. Chapter 7

“Oh dear. Why is it like a dungeon in here?”

Loki’s hand reached for the wall in the general direction of the light switch when something stopped it in mid-air.

“Don’t.”

It was so low, the croak; had Loki been a lesser being and not endowed with a superior sense of hearing, he would have missed it, or dismissed it as the death rattle of an insect caught in the trappings of a web.

“Another headache?”

Stephen only grunted a guttural noise but Loki had no trouble making out the words. “The same one.”

Loki was about to sit on the bed but caught himself. The last time he accidentally jostled his husband when he was feeling so poorly, Stephen had vomited all over himself and the bed...forgivable as far as showing his concern went, not so much the inadvertent worsening of Stephen’s blinding headaches, which were thankfully few and far between.

Loki crouched on the floor instead, keeping a safe distance just in case - not too far from the basin should Stephen need it, but not too close that he would get vomit all over himself should Stephen did end up being sick. “You haven’t had one this bad in a while.”

“Hmm.”

“Taking Stian to see that Lights and Sounds Laser Show at the Science Museum was probably not such a good idea after all, huh.”

The next “Hmm” was much less acquiescent. “At least he had fun.”

“That he did,” Loki murmured. “Still won’t stop yapping about it.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

The incessant hammering in his head took centre stage for a moment and it took Stephen quite a while before he realised that Loki had not spoken for quite some time.

Through the pitch-darkness of the room and the now-lukewarm gel eye mask on his face, Stephen could not very well see if Loki had indeed left him to be alone. 

A pang of disappointment mingled with the lingering nausea churning in his gut. He wished this was one of the maladies that responded positively to human (or in Loki’s case, inhuman?) touch. The idea of Loki rocking and cuddling him till this migraine either disappeared or killed him out of mercy though very enticing, was enough to send the baseline queasiness into raging, overwhelming nausea,

Stephen involuntarily gagged and with a speed so inhuman it barely registered to Stephen’s balance sensors, he found himself propped up and his head buried in the basin he would have not been able to reach in time.

Long fingers as cold as ice massaged soothing circles into his temple as Stephen retched and retched, bringing up nothing but acid and water. _“Fuck.”_

“I’m going away for a while,” Loki murmured in his ear. “Will you promise not to die before I get back?”

_Where? _Stephen wanted to ask but he was too busy bringing up every organ in his body down to his toenails to even vocalise beyond the most pitiful mewls.

“The Balkan Mountains,” Loki supplied helpfully.

“The Balk – ” Stephen balked. _What the hell for?_

Either Loki had suddenly developed the ability to read minds (with this level of pain, Stephen would not be surprised if it had actually bored holes into his brain) or they were becoming more in sync with each other’s train of thoughts.

“I’m going to come back with some Feverfew leaves for you.” 

There was a determination in Loki’s voice that warned against any form of argument from Stephen or the world.

But Stephen did not want Loki gallivanting on the other side of the world all by himself, there must be wild animals in the Balkans, bears, wild lynx, foxes – _bears!_

“The shops – ” he began.

“Are no good.” Loki said firmly. “I have to pick the herbs myself. Medicine made by hand is the most potent, Mother once said.”

Of course. No one argued with Frigga.

“I don’t – want you – ” Stephen gasped in between heaves, “ – to go…”

“I don’t either but the Healers now quake at the sight of me,” Loki said sheepishly. “I should stop terrorising them, but I can’t see you like this.”

I’m all better now, Stephen wanted to say, but no one saw through his lies better than the God of Lies himself.

“Loki…” Stephen clung to Loki’s tunic in a last-ditch effort to stop him. “You don’t have to go all the way there. I’ll be better in a day or two.”

“Love isn’t a matter of distance, husband,” Loki reminded him. “You once braved the peak of Everest for me. And you sat through the entire show at the science museum for our son even when you knew it was going to make you sick.”

“I’m sorry,” Stephen mumbled.

“Don’t be sorry. Just be well.”

Loki gently extricated himself from Stephen’s quivering arms. Any longer, and he wouldn’t be able to leave.

“I won’t be long.” Loki kissed Stephen in one sweat-dampened temple. “I promise.”

“Don’t get lost.” Stephen sank back into his mountain of pillows, missing Loki already. “And don’t get eaten by bears. Or kidnapped by faeries.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” After an awkward pause, “I think I love you too.”

Stephen laughed weakly. “Well-played, Odinson.”

_Well-played._

As Stephen drifted off into the promising, pain-free world of slumber, he felt the faintest brush of someone’s cold, cold fingers against his forehead.

He wondered when the next laser show was going to be and if he should make it a point to take their son to see it again – he probably should.

Oh yes, he totally would.


End file.
